


it sucks being a vampire (kinda on hiatus)

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, M/M, Multi, and not the food kind, bagginshield 4 lyyfe, bilbo is a brownie, figrid needs more love, not exactly twilight, pretty much crack, puns everywhere, sassy vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3629847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It sucks being a vampire. And not only in the pointy-fanged, double-pinprick way. No, what really sucks is being a nine-hundred-and-ninety-one year old teenage vampire and developing a puppy crush on the guy you were supposed to drain the life out of.<br/>You know what’s even worse? When said guys turns out to be a goddamn werewolf.<br/>But don’t worry. This isn’t your typical sparkle-skinned-fairy-princess meets ruggedly-handsome-wolf-dude. Oh no. This is so much more than that.<br/>My name is Sigrid Dale. Welcome to my death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. mythical bloodsuckers 101: for dummies

**_sigrid_ **

* * *

 

 

The blackness curls around me like warm arms welcoming me home, murmuring promises of peace and darkness. I sweep my hand through it, smiling absently at my slim fingers glowing through the shadows. The day is harsh and dangerous, full of stares and whispers and people who ogle like you're wearing a squid for a hat. Night is warm, quiet, safe. Nobody can see you, judge you, watch you. Pure. Reliable. Imagine, some people are scared of the dark.

Idiots.

The thought reminds me of my kid sister. Til always tells me off when I use “bad language”, the brat. I just roll my eyes and say nothing; I gave up on arguing decades ago. Over nine centuries and she still lectures me on my  _language_.

I tilt my face and allow the midnight moon to gild it silver. It’s always exquisite – the moon, that is – but to me it’s at its best waning. The crescent moon, a shining sickle suspended in the velvet sky. Perfect. 

Most of the others like the full moon best. Maybe I’m just weird. 

I give a small snort that no one can hear, swallowed like crazy pills by the infinite night.

A weird vampire. There’s a thought.

My eyes close and I immerse myself in the world around me, opening up my freakish bloodsucker senses to the scents and sounds. The buzzing of crickets, little hell-sent devilspawn, jarringly invasive as always; the dubious murmuring of trees, the scent of bark and crushed leaves, a dusky wind, some little creature pottering about in the undergrowth. It snares my attention like a fisher-rat with its hook.

A rodent, then. Small. Fuzzy. Tiny heart beating a mile a minute, sending warm, coppery, mouthwatering blood pounding through its limbs –

I let out a long breath through my pointed nose as my eyes open again. It’d hardly be a mouthful anyway, the measly thing. A human, now that’s quality main-course material. A snack. Yum.

Hold that thought.

A rumbling transfers itself from the concrete to my bare soles, arcing up my legs and seeming to coalesce in the burning in my throat. I draw in a quick gasp, hunger slicing through my belly like the Munchie Machete. I step swiftly off the middle of the road, sticking up a thumb as I turn to face the approaching car, eager for something to banish the hunger. The headlights are a few kilometres away, yellow glow barely visible over the crest of a hill before it disappears again.

A sigh inflates my cheeks like a chipmunk’s and I plant my fist on my hip, glaring in the car’s direction. I have unintentionally, as Bain would so eloquently put it, “ _spun the sass dial till it reaches nuclear levels_.”

The car crests another hill, lights flashing across the never-ending blanket of dark trees. Mm. Fast food.

Hitchhiking is a popular way for vampires to pick up a meal, believe it or not. It’s like the McDonald’s of bloodsucking. Da still doesn’t like it when I hitchhike for some reason – he gets this disapproving look in his eye and his lips go all pursed. Honestly, what’s gonna happen? Good luck to the truckie that takes a pass at a vampire. They’ll end up drained of blood on a roadside if I’m feeling merciful, a pile of redneck mush in the forest if I’m not. I still remember the day some meathead at school tried to take Til’s lunchbox. Little eight-year-old girl, mustn’t have looked like much of a challenge.

His entire family moved to North America the week after. He didn’t speak for the next sixteen years and his Crown Jewels were never the same again.

Kiwis. Gotta love ‘em.

If there’s one thing I don’t understand about Twilight, other than the entire plot, it’s how the idiot coven chooses Seattle of all places. If you want  ~~nearly~~  constant rain, populace zero, and citizens who don’t give an ass, go to New Zealand. What population there is is 99% sheep anyway, what could go wrong?

P.S. Vegetarians? Please.

P.P.S. No, thanks. We do not  _sparkle_.

The car’s drawing up, so rant over. I squint at the fender until the brand comes into focus. Jeep. Go figure.

I heft my stuck-up thumb and the Heepy-Jeepy slows to a crawl like it wants a better look. I narrow my eyes at the bulbous headlights. Haven’t you ever seen a nine-hundred-and-ninety-one-year-old teenage vampire walking barefoot down a highway at midnight before? Goddamn tourists.

The Jeepcake comes to a screechy halt, earsplitting scream piercing my sensitive ears. I try not to wince, instead summoning a wide smile which I tweak until it looks relieved. Not too wide, though; my incisors would show, and even tourists would be freaked out by that. Or maybe it’s big over the pond. Who knows. We’re talking about the country that invented Crispy Cheese ‘n’ Wieners, here.

‘D’you need a lift?’

I walk slowly towards the car, being sure to make my gait all stiff and klutzy like the humans do it. Don’t want this ranchie to think he picked up a mythical beast or something.

‘Yeah, thanks,’ I reply, peeking in through the passenger window. The guy driving looks about the age I was when I was still, you know, alive. And dang if he isn’t cute. It's been a long time since I've seen a cute guy - the things are about as rare as an elephant in a mosh pit.

‘Come in, then,’ McCutie says, offering up a shy smile like it’s a sacrificial lamb. It twitches up his scruffy little beard and makes his blue eyes warm. I can’t really help the way that my lips turn up in return; I’m too busy making my movements all clumsy as I climb into the Jeepsickle. Yeah, that sounds about right. Too busy.

Damn humans and their damn coordination. Or lack thereof.

I settle in to the leather seat as the car trundles off, just remembering to fasten my seatbelt. I’ve been the unwilling recipient of weird looks before when I forget something minor like the strap on an amusement park ride. It’s not my fault I have no memory for safety; I fell off Big Ben once and got a bruise on my pinkie. Painful, right?

The car smells like cinnamon and some kind of tree. Maybe pine, or oak. Whatever it is, it’s amazing and the Munchie Machete strikes again. I peep at McCutie from the corner of my eye, wondering if he tastes like dessert too – maybe it’ll be cinnamon, or something equally delicious like vanilla or chocolate.

Catching my look he gives me another little smile. He looks even cuter up close, if that’s possible.

‘It’s pretty late to be out and about,’ he observes. His eyes are the exact shade of Blueberry Jell-O and it should legitimately be made illegal.

I give a restrained laugh and glance down at the hands folded in my lap, being sure not to show too much of my teeth.

‘I guess. I probably should have stopped somewhere for the night, but I really wanted to get home.’

The standard excuse. Been saying it since the early twelfth century, just with a different accent.

McCutie seems to accept it. He gives a small nod and returns his eyes to the road, but I don’t miss how he glances at me in the windscreen mirror. Probably smells the weird already.

‘I’m Fíli, by the way.’

I like the way he says his name – fee-ahl-ee, curling around the syllables like a puppy. He probably gets a lot of idiots saying his name wrongly – fill-ee, or something equally gross.

‘Nice to meet you, Fíli,’ I reply primly, being sure to pronounce it properly. I get a cute grin for my trouble, a little flash of sunshine right there in the mirror. In the middle of the night, too.

‘My name’s Sigrid.’ 

He glances at me again; not the what-the-hell-kind-of-name-is-that look that I’m so used to, but an oh-cool look complete with a curved mouth and warm eyes. The whole box set of throw-you-off-your-feet cuteness.

‘So it’s not just me,’ he says, still smiling at me like goddamned Ryan Gosling.

‘Not just you what?’ I ask absently. James Dean, maybe. Gregory Peck. Or that dude in the Shakespeare play in the 1600s.

‘Not just me with a weird name.’

I manage to turn my laugh into one of those little ha-ha-funny nose-sound thingies and press my lips together. He grins at me in the mirror, revealing a row of perfect pure-white teeth.

'So, where are you headed?'

I half-shrug and lean back against the headrest.

'Dunedin.'

A little breath draws itself in through my mouth, uninvited, and I go still. I've never told anyone where I live before. Never ever ever. My Da would go nuts if he found out. I could have just said Invercargill, or Mataura, or Mind-Your-Goddamn-Own.

'Cool,' McCutie replies, seemingly oblivious to my inner freaking. 'That's the place with all the nude rugby, right?'

Highly amusing comment + wanting to laugh + vampire fangs is not a good recipe for me. I let out a totally embarrassing snort and cover my mouth with my hand.

P.P.P.S: The fact that vampires are good at seduction? Forget it.

 

 


	2. mythical furballs 101: for dummies

**_sigrid_ **

* * *

 

 

Okay, so maybe the thing about not being able to seduce was a lie. A half lie. A three-quarter lie.

Vampires can’t “seduce,” per say, but they can hypnotise their victims. You know, the whole glowing-eyes sonorous-voice thingo. You can pretty much make anyone do anything, except something really drastic like kill someone – out of our coven, I’ve always been the best at hypnotising. And that’s what got me pointy-fang deep in this entire debacle. Plus one annoyingly attractive wolf boy, but we’ll get to that when it comes.

Okay. Rewind.

As the Jeepmarine puttered down the winding roads Fíli and I had a lovely long talk. There wasn’t much else to do, after all – I Spy gets a little boring when the only things to ‘spy’ are trees, rocks, and sky. And squashed insects which have died a tragic death against the car's windscreen.

Anyways, I found out a few things about Fíli, aka Cutie McCute. He’s twenty years old, has a brother, and he named his car Bess. That’s right. He _named his car._ And he went all red and stammery when he admitted it. I mean, okay, he’s waving at _cute_ in Bess’s rearview mirror and approaching full-on adorable. Add to this that he called his mother ‘Mum’ and poof, you’re landed.

I told him a bit about myself too – that I’m twenty (lie) that I have eleven-year-old twin siblings (lie) and that my favourite drinks are piña coladas (one hundred per cent true). Don’t believe that poppycock about vampires not liking human food. I mean, what kind of living organism doesn’t like pizza? Even soulless demons like pizza. Undead proof, here!

Goddamn Twilight.

So yeah, piña coladas. Fíli likes hot chocolates with cream and those little marshmallows, which I seem to currently be in the process of morphing into. Let’s review my list of what I can transform into, shall we: fox, moth, wolf, bat, rat and now apparently a fluffy white sugar treat. Damn him and his impossible eyes. Should be illegal. One count of being too adorable for life. Bang bang. Two years imprisonment in Sigrid’s Bedroom, yes, _please_?

But that’s not gonna happen (sadly) because stake me if the Munchie Machete ain’t striking again. Hit me baby one more time, indeed.

So I bring up the mystic power and give him my best ~~bedroom~~ brainwashing eyes. When I speaks it sounds, yes, like _bells_ (okayfineTwilightgotitrightONCE) and seems to reverberate through the walls of the car. It’s familiar, of course, from centuries of doing it.

‘Pull over.’

Instead of the usual mind-numbing obedience Fíli instead chooses to frown in confusion.

‘What?’

I give him a look like he’s just descended from the Heavens on the mutilated carcasses of babies. That is not supposed to happen.

‘What?’ I repeat, look of incredulous confusion mirroring Fíli’s to a fault. He chooses this moment to take his eyes off the road in order to stare at me with full befuddled capacity.

‘Pull over!’

This time I lace the words with a little more power, pushing harder. Fíli still refuses to become a braindead zombie, confused expression morphing into one of stunned realisation. That is not _possible_. No human had ever resisted the swirly-eyes before!

Unless…

‘What the hell?’ Fíli yells (read: yelps), somehow still managing to drive in a somewhat straight line. ‘What was that?’

‘What was _that_?’ I reply just as squeakily.

Not possible. Nope, nope, nope.

‘Did you just try to _brainwash_ me?’

‘No!’

Fíli glares at me, unconvinced.

‘You did!’

‘No, I didn’t!’

How the hell did he resist it?

Wait a second.

 _Nononononono_.

Okay, this just got a hecka lot more complicated.

‘You’re not _human_!’ I yell, face scrunched up. For some reason the words come out offended, though to be honest I’d given up figuring myself out a long time ago.

‘ _Neither are you_!’ Fíli shouts, his fists clenching spasmodically around Bess’s wheel. He sounds just as offended, appears it too; his attention is back on the road now and he looks a second away from throwing his hands in the air with exasperation. Funny, a lot of people have that reaction to me.

‘Okay, maybe I – _Fíli, look out_!’

A something had appeared on the road in front of us – a huge, hairy, hulking something – but even with my vampire vision I saw it too late. Fíli yelps, sounding like a kicked dog (wait a moment) and yanks at the wheel. There’s a crash like a tsunami coming down on a city, rushing and enormous, and the world flashes white, then red, then disappears.

The last feeling I cling to is the handle beneath my fingers.

 

* * *

 

**_fíli_ **

* * *

 

 

It’d been oddly dark that night, and quiet. Too quiet. I should have known, really, but even a beast that plagues children’s nightmares can’t see the future. Outside of Hollywood at any rate.

Bess’s engine had been quieter than usual, and I could’ve sworn that the way she crawled up and down the hills was despondent. Maybe she’s depressed. Maisie too has seemed a little down lately; Kíli’s been rabid, running around with a tub of Mitchell and King Arklet polish and a rag. No matter how many times he waxed her, she just won’t sparkle the way she used to. Or so he said. Ori had suggested the doctor.

Mum had stared at the three of us for a while with an ominously blank expression interspersed with slow blinks. After a while she had commented very loudly – unnecessarily loudly – upon the proper behaviour of young werewolves and how ours fell short. Then she had espied her four-hundred-year-old brother trying to bandage his Ford and given up with a quite literal snarl.

It’s not our fault. Werewolf males have a thing for cars. Or maybe females do too, and Mum’s just an odd one out – she is the only female werewolf any of us have seen since _her_ Mum died two and a half centuries ago. The household has never been the same since, she always mutters. Too many idiot males, or something similar.

She actually became friends with a human woman once, about sixty years ago when Kíli was only a puppy. They became fast friends, until the human gave a surprise visit on the full moon; it shall just be said that there was much screaming and an AK-47 involved somehow.

A furry little problem indeed. Wise words, JK Rowling.

I’ve seen a few humans in my lifetime. I even went to school when I was fifty and still ageing. The education system has probably changed a lot since then, but Uncle is adamant that we don’t need any more of that. Humans are okay, as long as they don’t find out that you’re a werewolf; in the occasion of which, things can get…hairy. Still, I like humans, even if they are a bit breakable.

Which this girl, evidently, is not.

***

My eyelids feel like they’ve been glued with fishbone as I struggle to slit them open. Even so, it’s nothing compared to my head; it’s like my brain has morphed into a balloon, which is struggling to burst my skull. There’s a sound, too, which feels a bit like a needle being jammed into the balloon…ow. Gradually the hot poker of pain becomes words, which my poor scrambled brain hurries to translate.

‘Fíli! Fíli! Dammit, Fíli, _answer me_!’

The voice slowly works through the layers of foam in my brain, snapping me to attention. At first I can only see the world as a fuzzy barcode; after a few seconds the scrunched face of a very pale girl slowly swims into focus. An involuntary yelp escapes me and I push myself away, my elbows scraping against the concrete. Sigrid raises her hands, palm up, expression worried.

‘You’re a vampire.’

Or that’s what I try to say. It comes out as more of a half-strangled mumble of tortured vocal chords. God, did I scream?

Sigrid glances to the side like a guilty toddler. She leans back on her heels; framed against the huge full moon, she looks almost like a star spirit I met back in the ‘50s.

‘I suppose,’ she admits. I wonder how I didn’t see it before: the dark eyes, the white skin, the freezing temperature. She didn’t even have a reflection! Jeez. Maybe Kíli’s right and I do have the eyesight of a bull terrier. Which, for those non-werewolves out there, is pretty darn terrible.

‘You were going to kill me, weren’t you?’ I say. Why else would she be walking down an empty highway at the dead of night in the middle of nowhere? Sheep hunting?

‘I was not!’

‘You definitely were.’

She glances away again and taps the pads of her index fingers together. I’ve never seen a vampire fidget before. Then again, I haven’t seen a vampire before, either.

‘Okay, fine, maybe I was. But I _didn’t_.’

I feel my eyebrows furrow of their own accord. That’s the one thing that had confused me. Even if I hadn’t been fooled by her hypnosis, vampires were about ten times stronger than werewolves, and a hundred than the human she must’ve thought I was.

‘No matter what you think about vampires,’ Sigrid mutters, ‘we actually can have consciences, okay?’

She pushes herself to her feet before I can reply, a lot more lithely than I remember her moving. I guess she was putting on an act to seem more human. Which raises the question.

‘How old are you, really?’

Sigrid looks down at me with an eyebrow arched. ‘That is no question to ask a woman,’ she says sniffily, before glancing around. Her eyes land on something and she winces. ‘Ahh…Fíli…I’m really sorry.’

I follow her line of sight, and feel mt mouth fall open as if from across a very, very distant lake. The darkened road, the star-studded sky, the black-cardboard-cut-out forest, are all a blur. All that I can see, as if picked out by a powerful spotlight, is the scattered, bashed, unscavengable remains of Bess, scattered across the concrete.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Bess ;-;-;-;-;
> 
> I am sooooo sorry how long this took! Anime kinda sucked me in.............hehe ;)
> 
> Updates will be more regular from now on.
> 
> P.S. If you are interested in becoming my beta please comment c:


	3. Update

Hi everyone

Just thought I'd tell you that this fic will be on a sort-of-hiatus for a while. I may occasionally write a chapter if I feel like it, but I won't really focus on it for a while. I don't know where I want this to go, I have a lot of other fics to address, and I have no beta, so yeah. I am really sorry though! I will definitely come back to it.

Thank you so much for all the comments/subscribes/kudos up until now :)


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